


Amblyopia

by UniversalSatan



Category: Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Lazy Eye AU, M/M, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14498394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalSatan/pseuds/UniversalSatan
Summary: Oikawa's world is blurry. The dust covering his glasses and the intense sunlight don't help either. And neither does Kise's presence, reasoning for staying fading in and out of comprehension.





	Amblyopia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironnheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironnheart/gifts).



> yall sorry ive been a bit away... school is Kicking My Ass, and writer's block had me for this for both the slightly different way of writing and the fact that i havent seen either show in a while...
> 
> BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY LISA!!!! i just realized this is a perfect fix-it for the fic i gave you last year lolol [(Ryouta)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778427), and though i had to split it into 2 parts, i hope you like it :^)

_ Amblyopia, commonly known as Lazy eye, is a condition that reduces visual loss not correctable by glasses or contact lenses, and is not the result of an eye disease. The amblyopic eye can often be seen drifting. _

Sighing, Tooru takes of his glasses once again to try to wipe off more dirt from the desert around him that had stuck to his lenses. Already having to need bifocals now is enough; extra dust and smudging just makes seeing a pain in the ass.

Vision flickering above the task at hand, he quietly observes the man floating in his vacation home pool. He’s wearing sunglasses, but he’s not moving otherwise - probably lazy from the intense Californian heat around them. His blond hair swishes around his head like a halo…. or at least it looks like a halo to Tooru.

Everything is blurry to him without his glasses. It was definitely because of age, but he wasn’t even that old. He shudders to even consider being middle aged. But then of course, even with his glasses on, half of his world is still warped sometimes, thanks to his goddamn amblyopia. It was probably cureable while he was younger, but Tooru was a restless kid and didn’t have the patience to sit around and do vision exercises.

His world is blurry with his glasses on. And with his glasses off, it’s doubly as blurry. It feels as if that no matter what he does, nothing will ever be clear to Tooru, and he lost his chance to keep it clearer when he was younger. The image of the man in his pool becomes slightly more discernable as he slides his bifocals back in place.

Sure, it could just be the heat, but Tooru has an odd feeling that he’s ignoring him. And considering just the amount of things they had found out about each other over the week so far, it was more likely than not… or at the very least taking the time to think in peace. 

Curling into himself, Tooru hugs his knees as he lazily keeps watch on the desert and pool in front of him.

 

* * *

 

He runs a hand through his hair, making it perfectly tousled. The wind from his open window already makes it fluffier, but the presence shotgun in his car makes him feel like he has to look his best, despite them already have seen him at his worst. There wasn’t much he could counter to impress him.

There is currently a slightly sour taste hanging in the air. Ryouta doesn’t seem to regret it one bit, bitterly savouring his lashing out at Tooru. 

In all honestly, Tooru definitely deserves it, he thinks as he watches Ryouta exit the car out into the Mojave desert. The phantom of a ring itches on his left finger, and especially with the conversation they just had, Tooru wants nothing more than to just rip the entire finger off.

_ You’re not supposed to sleep with someone who left you all of those years ago. You’re not supposed to want to see him again, and you’re not supposed to still long for his presence when you found out your precious love had ended because he started dating someone else before leaving you in the dust, thinking he had died. _

You’re especially not supposed to sleep with someone when you already have a husband.

_ The concept is very bad in nature _ , Tooru mulls over in his mind as he slams his own door shut,  _ but it’s not everything as it seems _ . Ryouta doesn’t know the entire story, and Tooru hasn’t been compelled to tell it either. Instead, he simply sputters out excuses, trying to get Ryouta to stay for the rest of the weekend. He has no idea how he can even  _ explain  _ the situation between him and his so-called husband at the moment to the man staring at a few sand dunes in the distance a few steps from Tooru.

So Tooru leaves it at that. If Ryouta doesn’t go into depth, then neither will he. An ache wraps around his chest, constricting and suffocating him, but he ignores it. After all, he’s not technically lying to him now.

“You used to be so bent on being committed, on having a true monogamous relationship,” Kise mutters wistfully as Tooru joins his side, “What happened to the boy I knew then?”

“Many things,” he smiles blandly before stepping off the path first. 

Ryouta hums behind him, skidding down a slope to catch up. “It’s like you’re a whole different person, but also exactly how I remember you.”

“It’s been many years, Ryo-chan: of course we’ve changed.”

“Hm, well, maybe not all of us…” Tooru glances back to see a teasing twinkle in his companion’s eye. He rolls his eyes as he turns around again.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m still as handsome as I always was.”

Tooru body-checks him so that he stumbles into some brush. “Like hell you are.”

“What, so you’re disagreeing? That’s new.”

“New?  _ From _ ?”

“From when you were begging to me last night-” Ryouta receives a well deserved smack to the face, and yet he still has to lean to the side to stop from laughing.

“Shut up! God, I still can’t stand you.”

“And you know, you’re still pretty handsome too.” His last few words are slightly quieter than before, and Tooru almost stops in his tracks. Sure, it’s already so hot outside, and yet somehow Tooru can already feel his cheeks start to warm further. Biting at his bottom lip, he turns around and looks Ryouta over a few times. He is staring at his feet, but as he glances up he quirks Tooru a smile. 

Before he can say anything though, Ryouta’s attention is suddenly diverted elsewhere.

“Oh wow, I’ve never actually seen a Joshua tree before, this is so cool.” He is trekking past Tooru now, reaching out to touch the tree’s rough bark. Glad for the temporary topic change, he decided to entertain him.

“Do you know why they’re called Joshua trees?”

 

* * *

 

“You’re going to have to tell him, you know.”

Ryouta’s words almost make Tooru slips down the rough hill they’re climbing down, but he hugs a large rock as he carefully places a foot down. The sun is hot and bores down onto his head, but so far he hadn’t felt the least bit sick until now. He coughs.

“What?”

“Your husband. About  _ us _ . About what happened last night.”

“Maybe.” Tooru skids back down to Ryouta, who has a hand out and helps him jump down to where he is.

“Hey, you’ve never actually told me what his name is.”

“Do I have to?”

“I’m kind of tired of referring to him as  _ ‘your husband’ _ .”

“Guess we can agree on something at least.”

“Okay… so then what can I call him?”

Tooru tries to seem nonchalant. He  _ really  _ tries. So he shrugs. “I dunno.”

“You really don’t want me to know his name, don’t you?” Ryouta tugs his arm back so he can take a good look at his eyes. Tooru manages to keep eye contact for a few seconds before breaking it and marching ahead. “That’s really funny. Why don’t you want me to know his name? He’s your husband, isn’t he?”

“Just drop it.”

“ _ La la la, can’t hear you! _ ”

“ _ Kise _ .”

They stay quiet for a minute or two. Tooru tries to find the peace in it, but he can’t help but feel the impending questions follow him with every step. Ryouta isn’t the type to just stop prying. He’ll strip Tooru bare eventually. Tooru won’t mind, but he doesn’t want it to happen right this moment. He almost  _ wants  _ it to happen, but his mind is stubborn.

“I have a feeling you’re hiding something.”

Tooru’s breath catches, but he continues walking in silence as if Ryouta hadn’t spoken up at all.

“Of course you’re not going to tell me. You’re  _ Oikawa Tooru the Great _ , keeper of all his feelings.” Tooru shoots back a glare to Ryouta, which brings out a grin from him. So Ryouta continues. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

“On me?”

“Yes.”

“What did you decide?”

“That I’m going to figure you out once this week is over.”

Tooru wants to be flattered. He really does. Every inch of him is aching to turn around and embrace Ryouta in all of his suaveness, to drink in the feeling of having someone else appreciate his presence and his life. Just the phrase itself sends chills up his spine. Because of the context the line has been said in, it makes complete sense to him, but he can’t help but wonder if there is any subtext lining the meaning. Knowing Ryouta,  _ there probably is. _

“ _ Oh, you will, won’t you, _ ” Tooru mutters, turning around and almost stomping away. Laughing, he can hear his companion jog to catch up to him.

 

* * *

 

“This looks like it’s straight out of one of those old American Western movies.”

Ryouta is wandering down the street of what pretty much is the set of a Western town, yet completely abandoned. His pace is still slow enough that he stays by Tooru’s side.

“You  _ are  _ in America, idiot.”

He flashes him a grin that’s almost brighter than the midday desert sun. “Right, right. It’s the Japanese in me.” With a closed fist, he thumps his chest proudly, directly over his heart.

“To poke fun at America?”

“Something like that, yeah. You can’t say you don’t do the same either.”

“Okay, I guess you’re right.”

“Hey speaking of countries…” Ryouta glances up to Tooru, pausing as if he wants to make sure it is okay to speak, “What about  _ He Who Must Never Be Named _ ?”

“Who?”

“Your husband. Who else have we been talking about?”

Tooru groans. He doesn’t stop walking, but he tiredly rubs his hands over his face before brushing them back through his hair. The topic always seems to bounce back to his husband, and Tooru barely knows why he’s even surprised anymore.

“What about him?” he asks finally, dropping his arms back down to his sides. He can tell his own stride has a stiffness to it now, being more aware of it and the control he should have over himself.

“You said that he’s somewhere else now right. That he’s always somewhere else.”

“Well, yeah. He tends to go where his job goes.”

“And just leaves you here?”

“We’re not made of money.”

“...So where is he now?”

“Australia.”

“All the way across the world, huh.”

None of them have anything else to say to this, so they temporarily drop the subject again. Ryouta runs off to one of the buildings they pass, running his fingers over the weather-beaten wood on what looks like the porch of some general store. He seems to entertain himself with his own thoughts, considering the tiny smile that occasionally quirks his lips.

Tooru stands where he had stopped. His hands are perched casually in his shorts pockets, and his sunglasses barely shade his eyes from the bright sunbeams. He stands there in the dust, refusing to get out of the way of the brutal sun, lazily watching Ryouta inspect the town set. If he looks hard enough, Tooru can barely see how the heat warps his vision, further blurring his sight.

“Do you and your husband ever think about having children?”

Ryouta’s question catches him off guard, and he has to put some effort in concentrating his eyes to take a good look at the figure returning back to him.

“Uhm, not too much. He doesn’t really want children.”

“Do  _ you  _ want children?”

_ Does he?  _ Tooru’s thought about it a few times, but since his own husband was so decisive about his opinion, Tooru simply accepts that he will probably end up childless. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted at least one.”

“And your husband’s never heard you out?”

“It was more like I heard  _ him  _ out.”

“Why does he not want any? Isn’t having children like the ultimate responsibility? Something like: you’ve only grown up when you have to care for someone else more than yourself. It’s something I’ve always thought of when dreaming of having a kid.”

“We’re not settled down enough.”

“You seem pretty settled down.”

“And anyways, by your logic, that means if you don’t have any children, you never grow up.”

“Maybe so.”

“Then maybe you should think about settling down.”

“Who, me?”

“I was talking about  _ you _ , Ki-chan.”

Ryouta stares up at him in disbelief, mouth hanging slightly agape. Laughing to himself, he turns around and continues hiking through the town. Tooru picks up his pace to follow him down the short road.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, the intense heat dies down by the time Ryouta drives up to a lone diner around late afternoon. Neither of the two are very hungry, but have mutually agreed that they should settle down and grab some sort of a bite before returning back to the desert home.

Tooru is greeted with a refreshing gust of air-conditioning when he opens the door, the tiny bell above his head tinkling lightly. He holds the door open for his companion before searching for an empty booth to sit at.

Light, pointless chatter is accompanied with whatever drinks Ryouta has ordered. Tooru can’t find it in himself to pay attention too well, but enjoys the company all the while. He’s somewhat distracted with Ryouta’s expressions as he recites some anecdote, glittering dust illuminated by the sunbeams landing on the side of his face fluttering like snow all around him. While the sun is shining through the large window, filling the side of their booth at an angle Tooru isn’t blinded by, he can still see all of the dust and grime on his bifocal lenses. Frowning, he takes them off and tries to find the cleanest part of his shirt.

“So how was the wedding?” Ryouta asks, propping his chin on his hand. He’s leaning forward and his eyes are half lidded. Or at least from what Tooru can guess, now that his vision becomes limited. He purses his lips, finally finding a decent spot on his shirt to pinch around one of the lenses of his glasses and start cleaning.

“The wedding?” His eyes stay studied on his task. “Took about 45 minutes and $75. Just a few close relatives and friends. Nothing fancy.”

“Nothing fancy?” Ryouta narrows his eyes and leans back. “That’s disappointing. I want a huge wedding. Something big and fantastic that everyone will remember. One where everyone will keep their own little champagne glasses.”

“That’s going pretty far,” Tooru mutters, glancing up to look at Ryouta. It’s not easy to see much of him, but he can tell that he’s smiling wistfully. “Why go so far?”

“Why not celebrate your happiness?”

Tooru’s concentration flickers back to him. He cocks his head slightly, the skin around his eyes crinkling slightly. Smiling a bit to himself, he looks back to his lap and starts trying to clean the other lens.

“I used to want a memorable wedding,” he says finally.

“And? Then what?”

“Then I grew up.”

“You’ve been talking about growing up a lot today.”

Tooru shrugs. “That’s what I did. I’m not the same person I was in college. I’m not the same person you knew.”

“You haven’t changed that much.”

“Yeah, right. Stop contradicting yourself.”

“No I’m not,” Ryouta laughs frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as glances to the corner of the diner.

“Yeah you are. You said yourself earlier that I’ve changed.”

“We’ve both changed! It’s been over a decade, of course we’ve changed!”

“See! I told you!” Tooru points at him triumphantly with his glasses, moving them up to check if they’re clean.

“That’s not what I meant! We’ve both changed, but we’re both the same in a way…” he trails off, not quite sure how to get his argument across. Ryouta’s leaning forward again, studying every bit of Tooru. The scrutiny of his stare makes the hair on his arms prickle, but the sun through the window warms and soothes him. He lifts his glasses a bit higher to see if there’s anything left on his lenses, barely catching that Ryouta’s speaking again.

“You know, when I first found your ID that first time we had sex when we met, I couldn’t stop wondering about whether I’d take your name, or if you’d take mine.”

Though his glasses are held away from himself, Ryouta’s face rises into their view, as if he is the center of attention of a focusing camera. Tooru stares at his expression through the lenses, his face like a clear oasis in the middle of a blurry diner. His lips are moving again, and Tooru’s mind has trouble catching up with everything he’s saying.

“ _ Oikawa Ryouta _ …” he says, rolling the words around his mouth as if he was tasting a fine wine. “It has a nice ring to it but… what do you think about  _ Kise Tooru _ ?”

Ryouta’s eyes are piercing, prodding Tooru to react in some way. Blinking, he can feel his cheeks rapidly grow warmer, so he shoves glasses all the way back on, relishing how his entire world suddenly becomes clearer.

He’s ready to mumble something about Ryouta being a frivolous romantic, but before the words can be clear enough, their waiter walks up and looks between them. “Can I get you two anything else?”

Ryouta glances at Tooru quickly before grinning. “Just the bill please.”

“Alright,” she nods, writing something down on her notepad. The waitress begins to leave, but then seems to remember something. Turning back hesitantly, she glances between the two of them curiously. “Oh, and… the bartender there and I were betting on it but, how long have you two been together?”

The question slams into Tooru like a wall of surprise, and he’s honestly almost too shocked too speak. Ryouta is side-eyeing him with a strange look, speaking up for them instead.

“Fifteen years.” His voice makes him sound unsure of himself at first, but then he gathers some invisible confirmation and repeats himself with unwavering confidence. “We’ve been together for fifteen years.”

“Wow, it sure shows,” she gapes in awe. “You two have talked more this evening than my boyfriend and I have this whole year.” She’s saying goodbye now, but Tooru isn’t paying attention anymore. Ryouta’s lips move to acknowledge her, but his eyes stay on Tooru.

“Well, we should really get going now, shouldn’t we?” he says suddenly, standing up. Tooru nods in agreement, following in suit.

“Dammit,” he mutters to himself.

“What is it?” Ryouta asks him.

“It’s like my glasses are always dirty,” he informs him. Now that he is facing a slightly different way, the sun shines onto his lenses again and easily illuminates the dust that has already collected on their surfaces once again. “There’s too much dust here.”

“That’s because we’re in the middle of the desert,” he tells him. “Of course there’s going to be a lot of dust.”

“There’s always  _ something  _ wherever I go.”

“Maybe,” Ryouta considers as he holds the door open for Tooru, “I wonder if there’s some place with no dust or pollutants or anything.”

“What, like a hospital?” Tooru wrinkles up his nose. “No thanks.”

“So you’re just going to have to live with it.”

“Maybe not in another life.”

“Another life?”

“Where I actually do my amblyopia exercises and don’t need glasses now.”

Whatever his case is, Tooru smiles, perfectly content with how they are spending their time together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://universalsatan.tumblr.com/)   
>  [writing blog (for chapter/fic updates)](http://celestialberries.tumblr.com/)


End file.
